by Bethany-Kris
“I’ll tell you why!” Vasily suddenly shouted, his face gone red with rage. “Your uncle was a fucking tyrant, and cared nothing for the lives of the men that had to answer for the shit he pulled. Do you think he cared that you were almost killed because of a turf war he started? Or even that you were practically blind for weeks? No, none of that mattered. He only cared for money and sating his bloodlust.”
Very calmly, Kaz asked, “So he needed to die?”
There was a moment where Vasily’s lips moved just as he was about to answer the question, but he caught himself, shaking his head as though to get his control back. “Of course not.”
It took years before Kaz could see it, that tell that betrayed Vasily’s thoughts. For the longest time, he had never been able to tell whether his father was lying or not, not until he was seventeen. And his tell was not one that could be easily seen, not unless one knew to look for it, and only if they were close enough to see.
But he was close enough then, and he could clearly see that his father’s eyebrows were twitching, like the muscles there couldn’t be controlled.
Except, Kaz knew.
Vasily was lying.
“Right.” Kaz regarded his father, taking in the details he never paid attention to in the past. “Are we done here? I’ve got shit to do.”
Vasily waved him off. “Go.”
Kaz moved to do just that, but as he hit the door, Vasily called behind him. “Careful what questions you ask, Kazimir. You won’t always like the answer.”
Or rather, he wouldn’t like the way Vasily responded.
Leaving the unspoken threat hanging between them, Kaz left the office, then the building entirely. For once, he was ready to get the hell out of Little Odessa.
Violet stepped out of the taxi after handing over the cash for the fare. She stepped up onto the sidewalk, noting how dark and quiet the street was, like it had practically shut down for the night. It was a rare find in Brooklyn where a person could always find something open, something to do.
She checked her phone again, making sure she had given the driver the right street address that Kaz had messaged her earlier. It was.
So where was he?
Shifting the messenger bag over her shoulder, Violet took a few steps down the street, and stopped when lights flashed at her from the side. Hidden just in the mouth of the alleyway between two large buildings was a familiar Porsche.
And Kaz, leaning against the hood with his key ring in hand. He hit a button on the fob, flashing the lights at her again.
“Cute,” she told him.
Kaz shrugged. “Better than standing way out in the open looking around for nothing.”
“Ass.”
“A little,” he agreed. “Are you just going to stand there all day, or …?”
Laughing, Violet made a beeline for Kaz. She was well aware of how much she constantly found herself thinking of him, or what he might be doing, and how that often left her missing him in one way or another. But seeing him brought it all bubbling right back up to the surface, fast and fierce.
It had yet to fail to surprise her.
She didn’t entirely understand what it meant.
Violet figured as long as it felt right, it couldn’t be wrong.
Kaz’s arms opened the closer Violet came to where he was leaning against the hood. She dropped her bag to the ground a second before she was swallowed by a familiar, strong embrace. Her feet came off the ground before she realized it, and her backside met the hood of the Porsche.
Violet’s grin and breathless laughter was muffled by Kaz when he kissed her hard, taking away what air she had left. For a moment, she was lost in him—again. It was easy to forget about the rules she was supposed to follow and the stupidity of her choice to be there with Kaz when his hands grasped tightly to her jaw, he forced her head back, and he kissed her even deeper, a smug smile growing.
“You sent me a dirty picture,” he told her, dotting kisses along the seam of her lips.
Violet shook her head. “That was not a dirty picture. You sent me one with your cock in it. Totally different thing.”
“Mmm, no.”
“I beg to differ.” Her hand landed against his chest, needing the space to think and talk. Kaz moved at her unspoken request, but he was still pressed firm enough between her thighs that she could feel the length of his erection straining against his slacks. “I showed you what you left. You—”
“Showed you what you left,” he replied, smirking.
Violet had to look away to keep from smiling. “You’re terrible.”
“No, I’m just not going to lose this argument. That’s all.”
“Mine was innocent. Last word. It’s final.”
Kaz cocked a brow and said, “You knew damn well that wouldn’t be innocent, and I wouldn’t take it that way.”
She had.
Violet wouldn’t admit it, though.
“I see how this works,” Kaz said after she stayed silent, refusing to budge even an inch.
“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”
His sexy grin grew into a softer smile. “Missed you, huh?”
The statement was simple enough—innocent, even.
But it still didn’t feel that way.
Violet didn’t think Kaz was the kind of man to just blurt out something like that for just anyone. And if he did say it, he likely meant it and probably more that he wasn’t saying. It was just one of the many reasons why Violet was finding it especially difficult to keep distance between her and him.
When she stayed away, or tried to, something was pulling her right back in.
“Missed you, too,” she said honestly.
Kaz swept the pads of his thumbs over her cheekbones, leaning down for another quick kiss. “I take it you didn’t have any trouble getting down here?”
“No. I came here from Amityville, and then I’ll head back up to Manhattan.”
He stiffened slightly. “Your father’s place?”
“Called me over before classes were out.”
Violet wondered if Kaz would just come right out with the fact he had a run-in with her brother, or if he wouldn’t say a thing.
He surprised her.
“I take it your brother ran to daddy, yes?” he asked.
Violet laughed dryly. “What did you do to him?”
“Very little. Less than what he deserved.”
“Carmine is a little …”
“Spoiled. Entitled. Unqualified. I have a couple more, but feel free to tell me to stop.”
Violet didn’t need to. “All of the above, but he’s also bitter and jealous.”
Kaz glanced down at her. “For what?”
“Me,” she said, unfazed. “And my dad.”
His fingers pressed a little firmer to her jaw, forcing her gaze back up to his. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
“That he’s jealous?”
“No, that your father has made him that way,” Kaz replied.
Violet hadn’t ever looked at it like that before. “Never really thought about it.”
“Maybe you should.”
“Why? I don’t see how it matters. It’s the same thing with my mother, only the tables are turned. Carmine is the golden boy and I’m the … leftovers, for lack of a better word.”
Kaz tipped his chin down, something flashing in his gray eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I really don’t want to talk about how fucked up my family is. It’s better that no one sees it at all. We’re just hiding it all behind closed doors, and sweeping it under rugs. It’s always been like this.”
“But your father …”
“What about him?” she asked, feeling her defenses rise a bit at the bitter twist to his tone.
“What did he call you over for today, anyway? The run-in with your brother had nothing to do with you, no? You didn’t need to be there, Violet.”
“Wasn’t really about that. He was worried, wanted to see me. And then
we had a chat about how I’m fucking up lately with school, and can look forward to becoming the best little housewife for some man if I don’t correct it and soon.”
Kaz’s hands dropped to her sides instantly. “That, right there.”
Violet’s head snapped up. “What?”
“You believe that shit.”
She opened her mouth to argue the point, but something kept her quiet. Maybe it was the way Kaz watched her silently, waiting for her to say something. Or maybe it was the way she let her mind turn over conversations she’d had with her father when she wasn’t performing up to his satisfaction in life.
“How often does he do that?” Kaz asked after a long while.
Violet glanced away, refusing to meet his stare. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I think you do, krasivaya. It’s the same damn thing as before—when you said he didn’t want a daughter who shamed him. Words like ‘shame’ shouldn’t be used between a father and his daughter. It’s manipulation. It’s unhealthy. And let me guess, how pissed off are you right now that I just called it out, because you want to defend him?”
She was going to deny that, too, but she couldn’t. Not with the way the anger was simmering in her bloodstream. She loved her father, and he wasn’t perfect, but he was hers.
And yet, Kaz had a good point.
Nothing he said was untrue.
“It’s not important,” Violet said weakly.
She didn’t even believe her own words.
“And this is not why I came here tonight,” she added, stronger than before.
“It might not be, but it’s out there now,” Kaz responded, unbothered at her anger. “You’re close to him, no doubt. He makes it seem like pleasing him is what will further you—what makes you better. Because that’s how it has been for forever, no? You make him happy, and in return he’s happy with you. But when he’s not happy with you, then he takes away what you want. His approval, affection, and that sort of thing. Am I wrong?”
Violet sucked in a hard breath, letting the air burn in her lungs as she held it in. “I said—”
“Don’t want to talk about it. Yeah, I got that. Just answer me.”
“Obviously you’re wrong, or I wouldn’t be here with you right now.”
“Wrong,” Kaz murmured. “That is only one single part of what makes everything I said right. Because you don’t always do what he says, and you don’t always believe what he tells you like its gospel. And sometimes it might not always feel right, but when you get someone else’s voice in your head instead of his, you start seeing that things aren’t colored just the way he says they are.”
“Kaz—”
“Like me,” he interrupted. “I am not what your father said I would be, am I?”
Violet clenched her teeth, but the word slipped out anyway. “No.”
“And that pisses you off, yes?”
Right then, he was kind of pissing her off.
Violet still knew Kaz was right. Even if it hurt a lot to admit it.
“No need to continue,” Violet said, blinking away the wetness starting to gather in her eyes. “The rose-tinted glasses have been pulled off, so thank you.”
Kaz grabbed her waist hard and pulled her to the very edge of the hood, keeping their bodies firmly pressed together. “I didn’t say it to make you angry with me.”
“I know.”
“But you are. Angry with me.”
“More with myself,” she admitted softly.
Kaz sighed, and then quickly pulled her down from the hood, snagging her hand with his own and weaving their fingers together. “Come on. Let’s go do something.”
“Like what?”
“I’ll figure something out.”
Violet didn’t doubt him.
The Porsche came to a stop on wet sand, and Violet was already unbuckling her seatbelt to get out.
“The pier is closed for a week,” Kaz informed, opening his door as Violet climbed out of the car. “They’re doing some minor construction, and closed down the beach for about a mile either way for safety’s sake, but they’re lax on monitoring it during the night.”
Violet looked around, noting there was no one as far as she could see. Parked right beside the pier, the Porsche was hidden by shadows, and so were they.
“And what happens if someone catches us down here?”
Kaz laughed. “They won’t.”
“You don’t know that for sure, Kaz.”
“I’m pretty sure,” he countered. “And it was this or my place again.”
Violet’s brow furrowed as she met him at the front of the Porsche. Kaz leaned against the hood, holding a hand out for her to take. She did, letting him tug her into his side. A heavy arm rested over her shoulder, and she smiled when he kissed her temple.
“I like your place,” Violet whispered.
Kaz’s lips moved against her skin when he said, “I know you do, but you should see more than just the walls of my apartment. Do something with me other than hide away in my bedroom.”
“I like that, too.”
He chuckled, deep and heady. “Keep that up and I’ll run us over there. I’m pretty confident I can get us there in under ten minutes.”
Grinning, Violet pushed away from his side. He said nothing when she kicked off her suede, booted heels, letting her feet sink into wet, cold sand.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“I want to check the water.”
“It’s going to be freezing.”
The air had a chill as it was late fall, and winter would be coming soon, but it wasn’t bad.
“Violet,” Kaz said, half amused and half warning, “do not go into that water.”
She wasn’t listening. Before Kaz could reach out and grab her again, she was already heading toward the water lapping at the pier. Her toes hit cold water first, but her feet and ankles quickly followed when a small rush moved up the sand.
Kaz was right.
It was like ice had been poured onto her skin.
Still, Violet didn’t move. Her dress rested just above her knees, high enough not to worry about it getting wet. The stinging sensation of the freezing water eventually dulled to the point it was bearable.
But she didn’t care.
Spinning around, she faced Kaz.
He just shook his head, still leaning against the car and watching her like she was the most important thing to grace his presence for the day.
“How long are you going to stand out there freezing your feet off?” he asked.
“Maybe until you come get me.”
Kaz made a dismissive sound. “You’ll be waiting for a long time. I know how cold that water is.”
“But what if the water got really high, really fast?”
“It won’t.”
“But what if?” she pressed.
Kaz sighed. “I suppose I would have to come out and get you.”
“Don’t sound so excited about saving my life, now.”
In a blink, his amused features hardened, turning cold. “Violet, had I thought there was any risk to your life, you wouldn’t be standing in that water in the first place.”
Oh.
For something that was as sweet and protective as that statement had been, Kaz had spoken it rather candidly and with a sobering quality that edged the words.
Violet turned back around, watching another rush of water come in and lap at her ankles. It was enough to send her flying out of the water, as the prickling sensation of the coldness was too much on her legs for a second round. Kaz laughed at her until she was all the way back up to the front of the Porsche, and far away from the water’s cold touch.
“Told you,” he said, smug as fuck.
Violet shot him a playful glare as she bent down to put her shoes back on. She didn’t even get the chance to grab the first shoe before she was lifted off the ground. She only realized what happened when her backside met the hood of the Porsche, and Kaz’s smirk filled her vision
once more.
“What are you—”
Violet’s words drifted away when Kaz pulled one of her legs up, and his hands closed around her freezing foot. Over and over, he rubbed his palms against her cold skin until the stinging sensation was gone and it didn’t hurt as much. He did the same to her other foot without a word, seemingly unbothered by the sand getting all over his suit and her dress.
“I may not get in the water for you, but I will certainly warm you up after,” he told her.
“I’ll take that deal.”
By the time Kaz was satisfied he had sufficiently warmed Violet up again, he dropped her feet and stepped in between her widened legs.
“This was nice,” she said.
Kaz’s hands landed on her thighs, skipping up under the hem of her dress just enough to make her grin. “What was?”
“This. Pretty decent, for a second date, I think.”
“I didn’t say this was a date.”
“It’s kind of like one.”
“When was the first?” he asked, a smile growing.
“The diner.”
“Ah.” Kaz tipped his head down, his nose touching hers a second before his lips grazed her mouth softly. “We kind of did things backward, no?”
“How so?”
“Get to know someone. Date them. That sort of thing. We did it all backward.”
“I don’t mind,” Violet whispered against his lips.
Kaz kissed her again. “Me, either.”
“By the way …”
His mouth hesitated against the path it was starting to make down her jaw. “What?”
“You were right.”
“I usually am, but enlighten me.”
Violet squeezed her thighs around his hips, forcing him closer. “Smartass. The picture. I sent it knowing it wouldn’t be innocent for you. After all, you took far too much enjoyment putting that bite mark there.”
Kaz let out a hard breath, the warmth pulsing along her neck. “Yeah.”
She let her hands travel down his chest, lower to his stomach, and then grazing over the front of his slacks, barely touching where she knew he was hard and likely aching.
